


You [Just] Me

by GutterBall



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cussing, M/M, Mako is evil, Smut, but she doesn't think of everything, the get-along blanket, the get-along room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/pseuds/GutterBall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So while I was writing <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6597748/chapters/15093478">These Two Clownshoes</a>, I might have mentioned that sometimes I just want to smoosh these two clownshoes together until they kiss, already. This is really just an excuse for that scenario. Mako's tired of all the bickering, so she locks Chuck and Raleigh in a room until they get along.</p><p>Smutty shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You [Just] Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. The title is a shitty visual pun. First one to get it gets... uh... kudos? Mental ones? I got nuthin. Sorry.

"Why the fuck do I have to--"

"Because I can't reach." Mako Mori took zero shit from anyone, let alone the cranky Australian jerk she'd known since before she learned to speak English. "It'll take five minutes. Quit whining."

Chuck didn't quit whining. He did, however, switch to muttering said whinges under his breath. Raleigh watched with mild amusement and more than a little wariness. Sometimes, he wondered exactly how much time the Pentecosts and the Hansens had spent together in the past, because he'd swear Mako and Chuck were siblings.

But wariness won out, and he couldn't help but lean close and murmur, "And... why am I here?"

She shot him a strangely smirky look. "In case he needs a leg up. He's too heavy for me."

"Oi, you callin' me fat?"

She rolled her eyes. "Muscle weighs more than fat. If you'd paid attention in Health class at the academy, you'd know that."

To Raleigh's surprise, the jerk actually grinned. "Engineering was more fun."

Mako grinned, as well. "Yes, but Health was mandatory." Finally, three floors down and God knows how many corridors away from where they started, she stopped in front of the usual metal, crank-locked shatterdome door. "Here we are."

As she cranked open the lock -- it stuck twice, the cogs rusted and stubborn -- Chuck grunted. "Why the hell would we store simulator parts way the fuck down here?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Because we couldn't afford to run the simulator after the UN cut our funding, so why would we keep the spare parts handy?"

"...Oh."

"Just go in. It's on the top shelf in the back." She shoved the kid into the room, then took Raleigh's arm and nudged him in, too. "I saw it yesterday but couldn't get up to it. The crate is marked SIM 2.5.18."

"I can't fucking see a thing in here. Why the fuck is only one light working?"

Raleigh edged into the narrow little room, feeling a bit claustrophobic by how little space all the overflowing shelves left for them to walk though. And, yes, by how dark it was. Only one of the flourescent tubes overhead worked, and it flickered and buzzed like an angry firefly.

"Maintenance doesn't come down here often." Did... did Mako's voice sound far away? The room wasn't _that_ long, was it? "They probably don't know the bulbs are burnt out."

The door closed.

The door closed?

"Oi, was that the fucking door?" Chuck turned and tried to shove past him. "Why would she shut the fucking door?"

"Ow, goddammit! That's my foot you're-- ow! Jesus, I need that ribcage to breathe with, asshole!"

Chuck, of course, didn't care in the slightest. "Get the fuck out of the way, and I won't have to-- ow! Fuck, don't shove back, dammit! There's something in my-- Jesus! What the fuck is stabbing me in the back? I can't see a goddamn thing!"

A dull, metallic ratcheting sound froze them where they stood, squeezed between shelves full of useless junk in a basement room with all the lights out but one. That flickered. Like it could go out any second.

Raleigh sucked in as much of a breath as he could with Chuck's elbow crushing his throat and what felt like a crate corner jabbing into the swell of his ass from the shelves behind him. "Was... Chuck, was that the lock?"

"Mori! What the fuck are you-- ow, fuck!-- what are you doing?"

Now, it was a metallic sliding sound. Mako's voice came through loud and clear. She must have opened a mail slot or a peepstrip. "This, gentlemen, is your get-along room. When you get along, you can come back out."

Chuck gave a great, lurching heave and shoved Raleigh bodily behind him, ignoring a sharp cry when the point of the crate dug deep into his lower back.

"Mori! Goddammit, you can't lock us up in here! Dad'll have your head!"

The sliding sound again, and Mako's voice came back smug and entirely too pleased. "It was your father's idea. Have fun, boys."

The sliding sound again, and Chuck hammered on the door. "Is this about that fucking food fight? Because that was friendly as fuck! Ask Ray if you don't believe me!"

Rubbing at his lower back -- he wasn't sure the box corner hadn't broken skin, and he was definitely bruised -- Raleigh grunted. "Oh, it was friendly when you shoved mashed potatoes in my face and up my nose? My bad. That must be the Australian friend-greeting ceremony. And here I took it for latent hostility."

"Not the time, asshole. We gotta get out of this fucking closet." More pounding at the door and a few thuds and grunts suggestive of the kid slamming his shoulder against it. "Solid as fuck. This is such bullshit. There's gotta be another way out."

Raleigh had no intention of admitting he was already peering into corners in hopes of spying another door. "You could swallow your bullshit and be nice to me."

"Oi, you in on this, fuckwit? I will beat the shit out of you and use your unconscious body to ram open the door if you are."

He snorted. "Yes, Chuck. It was my brilliant, genius plan to lock myself in a tiny, narrow room with a guy who threatens to knock me out and use me to open a door."

"Then fucking think of something!"

"I am!"

"Well, what?"

Scowling, he edged sideways around the evil crate that had jabbed him and got right in the kid's face. "You could stop being such an asshole to me. How about we start with that?"

"This is not the fucking time!"

He threw up his hands, instantly regretting it when he slammed the back of the right one against a metal helmet of some sort on a shelf. "Looks like this is the perfect time, asshole. We're not going anywhere anytime soon."

"What, that's it? You're just giving up?" A snort. "That's you right down to the goddamn ground, Ray. I knew it from the start."

His own not-inconsiderable temper flared, but he grimly bit it down. "Do you for one second think Mako didn't check this room over inch by inch before deciding it would do? We aren't getting out of here until she lets us out." He turned to lean back against a relatively harmless-looking area of shelving. "That's not giving up. It's facing facts." Kicking idly at the shelf opposite to hide his frustration, he grunted. "You never could get the difference through that thick skull of yours."

"Oh, I'm stupid now, yeah? I aced my way through the academy, ya wanker. I coulda been a jaeger engineer if I'd wanted to." The big jerk stalked closer, bristling with balked fury. "I chose to save the goddamn world directly, didn't I? Instead of running away with my tail between my goddamn legs."

His jaw clenched. "Shut up."

The kid bristled further. "Make me."

If he grit his teeth any further, they'd shatter. "This room isn't big enough for the asswhooping you have coming, Hansen."

That big body flexed, then... released. A little, anyway. The kid was still entirely too jacked up for Raleigh's peace of mind.

"Reckon even you can be right about one thing, fuckwit."

Without consulting on it, they withdrew to opposite ends of the room to cool down.

\--

"How long's it been, you reckon?"

Raleigh sighed. He'd been enjoying the quiet. Well, not enjoying, exactly, but savoring not being yelled at or called an idiot or a coward.

"Gee, sorry, I forgot to wear a watch."

"Oi, it was just a question. Why the fuck are you always so touchy?"

"I'm not." Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face and shifted against the shelves, trying to find a new position that didn't jab at the bruise on the swell of his ass. "I've just never heard 'just a question' from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He started to snap, then forced himself to actually look at the jerk. Chuck had scooted down to sit on the floor, his back against the locked door, his knees bent so he could rest his arms on them. If he had to guess, he'd say the kid was bored out of his mind.

Which, dammit, was understandable. Not everyone had learned to meditate to quiet all the noise in their heads.

"Feels like maybe an hour, more or less."

"What makes you say that?"

The scant lighting was too flickery to be one hundred percent sure, but after a long moment, Raleigh decided the jerk was just curious, not being a shit. Would wonders never cease.

"Because on a good day, it takes me about half an hour of meditation to find my focus." A hint of a grin quirked his mouth, though he was fairly certain Chuck wouldn't see it. "This has not been a good day."

"You meditate?"

The jerk sounded incredulous but not particularly mean about it, so Raleigh just shrugged.

"Mori teach you that?"

The light just wasn't good enough to make out the kid's expression. It probably didn't matter. The big jerk wasn't going to like his answer, anyway.

"No. I taught myself while working on the Wall." He was a little disappointed when Chuck didn't comment, so he shrugged and threw a few more twigs on the fire. "It was the only way to shut out Yancy's voice."

That and working himself to exhaustion every day so when he was occasionally able to sleep, he was borderline unconscious and unable to dream.

"...Oh."

Silence fell between them, but it didn't feel like they were ignoring each other this time. Raleigh tried to meditate again, but he knew already that his center was gone for the day. He'd only barely found it earlier, and, frankly, he just wasn't in the mood.

Besides, it wasn't long before Chuck again broke the silence.

"I'm hungry. How long you think this bullshit will take?"

"I have no idea."

The kid sighed harshly. "Oi, you know Mori better than I do. Surely, you have some idea."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't." But he couldn't help himself. "And don't call me Shirley."

"I didn't."

Another eyeroll. "Never mind. No, I don't know how long it'll take. I'm guessing that depends on Mako's definition of 'getting along'."

"Which would be what?"

He blinked. "How should I know? I mean, we're not currently fighting each other, right?"

"Oi, that's right. So... how's she supposed to know we're getting along, then?"

Brightening, he stood up straight and looked around with more curiousity. "Unless she has the place wired for sound or video...."

"That's the ticket, Ray!"

By unspoken agreement, they both searched between shelves and in corners and through any open boxes or crates, looking for a bug or a camera. The shitty lighting hampered their search, but they did the best they could. Some time later, they were both sweaty, cranky, and liberally streaked with dust, but they'd checked everything up as high as they could reach.

"Oi, give me a boost, yeah? I wanna check these top shelves and the upper corners."

"You can't give me a boost?"

"It's my idea, innit?"

He snorted. "It was _my_ idea, Chuck."

"Bullshit. Just gimme a boost, yeah? What, you already giving up on this, too?"

Okay, that did it. He was absolutely done with the same old bullshit. Scowling, he gave the jerk a shove that sent him back against the shelves and dislodged a bunch of random shit.

"I'm not a fucking quitter, Chuck. I came back, didn't I? I even came back from another fucking dimension." He snorted. "Jesus, kid, what's it gonna take for you?"

Shoving away from the shelves and rolling his shoulders, the big jerk flexed. "Yeah, you came back all right. In the eleventh hour, when there was nothing left. When it was win or die. Where the fuck were you in the time between, eh?"

They stood just out of arms' reach, facing each other between the shelves, and Raleigh abruptly realized they were one wrong word away from another fight. And he didn't even care. In fact, he welcomed it.

"Licking my wounds." He tilted his head back and forced a smirk. "That a good enough answer for you? I was getting my shit together, because having my goddamn brother pulled screaming out of my head scrambled it around a bit. Okay?"

The asshole flexed further, seeming to take up the entire aisle. "Fuck that, Ray. You were hiding, plain and simple. And worse, you were working on the goddamn Wall. On the very thing stealing our funding and our political support and hamstringing us in every possible way."

He felt his anger spooling up until he was flexing just as obviously as Chuck. "What else was I supposed to do, asshole? You think jobs were in such great supply with all the businesses moving inland?"

The bristling jerk took a step forward and had the gall to point at him. "You were _supposed_ to cinch up your goddamn panties and suit up with the rest of us!"

He coughed a bark of a laugh. "Right. Because it was _so easy_ for you to sync up with Pentecost." Another barking laugh. "I've seen the data, Chuck. You two shouldn't have been able to take two steps together with that tenuous a link. Now imagine trying that while not being able to hear anything but your brother's last words cut off by a scream as you watched... _and felt..._ him die inside your mind. And then you tell me how I should've just gotten over it and got back to work."

Chuck's broad shoulders heaved, his expression tight and furious in the uncertain lighting. Then, he cleared his throat. "Never said it'd be easy. Just said you shoulda done it."

His jaw clenched.

"You did it with Mako, yeah? You might've come within an ace of blowing up the shatterdome to do it, but you managed."

God, he had a headache. He wasn't used to being this tense for this long anymore. Or having his jaw clenched so hard. He just... wanted quiet. He wanted his bunk, where he could wrap up in the blankets and pretend like he could go to sleep and forget everything for a while.

"After five years. After teaching myself every relaxation and mind-centering trick in the goddamn book." He sighed, forcing some of the anger and adrenaline out with the rush of air. "Trying it immediately would have been a disaster. Even you have to admit that."

Perhaps sensing Raleigh's sudden lack of interest in anything resembling a fight, Chuck seemed to stand down. The broad shoulders lowered, the hard fists unclenched.

After a moment's quiet, the kid gestured vaguely at the shelves. "All right. I'll give you a boost."

He wanted to shake his head, but instead, he found himself almost grinning ruefully. Unless he missed his guess, that was the closest he'd ever get to an apology from the big jerk.

But he didn't argue.

And when the kid bent down and laced his fingers together, he didn't hesitate to step into them and ride the boost up. He grabbed the top shelf for balance and pulled himself up a little further, unable to help leaning most of his weight against the poor guy as he ran his eyes over the shelf and peered into the cobwebby, dark corners. Nothing.

"Other side?"

Without a protest, the kid grunted and turned them, leaning the other way so Raleigh could grab onto the other top shelf and scrutinize it.

"Not gonna lie, mate. Never thought to be seeing your ass from this close up."

He jerked with surprise, then realized... oops. By leaning back against the kid, he had effectively shoved his left buttcheek right against the kid's face.

"Uh... sorry?"

"Jesus, Ray, is your ass bleeding? Why is your ass bleeding?"

He blanked and felt a moment's swift panic, then remembered the crate corner digging into his lower back, just on the swell of his ass. "Dammit. It was when you shoved past me. There was a crate or something. Didn't know it actually broke the skin, though."

"Fuck, mate. Sorry about that. Looks like it's stopped?"

A laugh coughed out of him. "You would know."

"Oi!"

Something caught his eye, and he leaned more into the shelves to get a better look. Chuck cursed, but stepped closer to keep their balance more or less stable.

"Holy shit."

"What? Did you find a camera?"

He blinked, then reached out and pulled the box further into the light. "No, but there really is a box marked SIM 2.5.18 up here."

"So?"

Twisting at the waist, he stared down at the kid, a little wide-eyed. "So... it's clean."

Chuck blinked, then scowled. "That cunning little bint. She knew we'd get to looking."

It took a lot of grunting and a few Australian swears that Raleigh wasn't entirely sure he understood, but soon enough, he stood solidly on the floor with the crate in his hands, neither of them injured or bleeding. He counted it a win.

Until he opened the box.

Chuck reached out a hesitant hand. "MREs? Bottled water? Apples? What the fuck...?"

His mouth numb, Raleigh huffed. "Provisions."

The kid's eyes widened. "No."

Four MRE packages. Four apples. A ten-pack of bottled water. Supper and breakfast and adequate hydration for two people.

Overnight.

"Mako... why?"

"Jesus. We're really not getting out of here, are we?"

He picked up an MRE packet and sighed. "Not until tomorrow, anyway."

Chuck blinked down at the box of provisions Mako had stowed away for them and huffed a grunt. "Fuck."

Raleigh could only nod his agreement.

\--

"Does it still hurt?"

They'd eaten an MRE packet apiece, then just sat on the floor and quietly pondered the situation. Raleigh didn't even try to meditate. His mind was too busy for it.

Honestly, he sort of appreciated the distraction.

"Hm?"

Chuck gestured at him. "Where the crate bit you."

"Oh." He considered. His headache had been his main concern, but it had faded a bit with some food and quiet. "It aches a bit. Definitely bruised the hell out of it."

"No stinging?"

"Yeah, it stings a bit. Probably just a scrape. It's fine."

Grunting, the kid swiped his hands on his pants. "Let's have a look. No sense getting infected over something this stupid, yeah?"

Chuck... wanted to...? It wouldn't be that big a deal, but... the placement was a bit... awkward.

"Seriously, mate. Hop up, yeah?" The big jerk was already on his feet and digging around on a shelf. "I swear I saw an old first aid kit somewhere...."

"Chuck, it's fine."

"It was bleeding, and everything in here is dirty as fuck. You should at least take some rubbing alcohol to it."

He stood up but made no move to drop his pants. "Chuck, I am not showing you my ass."

The kid shot him an unimpressed look, then went back to his rummaging. "Don't flatter yourself, mate. Your ass is nice and all, but I've got better ways into your trousers than first aid."

Raleigh... had no idea how to respond to that. Was it a compliment? Was it an insult? He couldn't tell, and it left him tongue-tied.

"Ah-hah!" Triumphant, the kid hauled a white plastic case out from behind a stack of plastic-wrapped toilet paper. "Jesus, what do we do when we need to take a piss?"

He shook off his distraction -- most of it, anyway -- and sighed. "Guess we shouldn't crush the water bottles when we're done, huh?"

"That's fucking gross, mate."

"Take it up with Mako. She could've found us an overstuffed, shitty, dark little room with a toilet."

To his surprise, the kid snorted even as he used one of the alcohol wipes from the kit to wipe the kit itself down. He used another to clean his hands, then gestured for Raleigh to turn around.

"Hike up your shirt."

Sighing again, he did so, knowing that wouldn't be enough.

Sure enough: "Well, fuck. Yeah, you're gonna have to drop your trousers a bit, mate. There's a bit of a hole torn, but not enough to get to it."

Blushing, he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his fly but kept a deathgrip on his pants, only loosening them enough to slip down on the one side.

"All right. I'm pulling down your boxers, mate, but only enough to get at it, yeah?"

Honestly, he appreciated the warning. He probably would have jumped away and decked the kid if he'd just hauled them down.

"Ow. Yeah, you bruised the hell out of it."

He jumped a bit at the cold swipe of an alcohol swab, then hissed as the sting set in. Definitely broke the skin.

"Two seconds, mate."

More cold alcohol, followed by the sting of it in the scraped flesh. This time, the kid applied a bit more pressure, and he couldn't help but grunt.

"Sorry, sorry. Had to get it bleeding again. It'll help flush the wound, just in case."

He agreed in theory, but it stung like a bitch. He reached out and gripped the nearest shelf, gritting his jaw. Chuck didn't comment, but he did stop tormenting the area with alcohol wipes. The gentle press of gauze was a nice change, though it made the bruising ache.

After a moment, the kid leaned back and peeled the gauze away, likely to eye the scrape critically. "It's not deep, but it's long. A couple of plasters out to do the trick, yeah?"

"Plasters?"

"Right. Uh... lemme see what they're...." Rummaging sounds. "Bandaids?"

"Oh. Sure. If you think it needs it."

It was a weird feeling, fingers pressing against the swell of his ass and the sticky pull of the bandaids as Chuck placed them. Why did it have to be his ass? Why couldn't he have been jabbed in the shoulderblade or somewhere else innocent?

Blushing, he shifted awkwardly as the kid carefully pulled up his boxer briefs so as not to unstick the bandaids. He hurriedly pulled up his pants all the way and buckled up, not sure why he felt so awkward over what had been a simple medical procedure.

On his ass.

"Oi, Ray?"

"Hm?"

It was difficult to convince himself to turn around and look the kid in the eye. But he did it, and Chuck shrugged.

"Sorry for... y'know... shoving past you like that."

His eyebrows rose. Here he'd thought he'd never get an apology.

Then, the big jerk smirked. "Shame to damage an ass as fine as yours."

He rolled his eyes. "You just haaaaaad to say it."

The prick kept smirking while he packed away the med kit and balled up the opened packaging to throw away. If they ever found a trash can.

"Credit where credit's due, mate."

"Ugh. Shut up."

\--

"Don't suppose there's any blankets?"

Raleigh sighed with relief. "So I'm not the only one?"

"Nah, mate. It's downright cold in here."

Which made sense. They were underground in a metal room, and while underground rooms weren't as subject to day and night temperature changes as the surface was, the ambient feel of the room had turned damp and chilly as time passed. It likely didn't help that they were sitting on a bare metal floor.

"Well, she thought of food and water, so she probably thought of blankets, too. Let's check some boxes."

But they'd apparently forgotten the point of the whole exercise, because they were both surprised when they found one -- and only one -- clean thermal blanket folded on a shelf next to the door. They looked again until Chuck finally snorted.

"We're supposed to fucking share it."

"Why do you s--"

Chuck unstuck the note pinned to a corner. In bold capitals, it stated, "THIS IS YOUR GET-ALONG BLANKET".

"I'm gonna kill her."

The kid tossed aside the note and started unfolding. "If I can patch your ass, we can share a goddamn doona, yeah?"

"Doona?"

The jerk rolled his eyes. "Blanket."

"Oh. Right."

He grumbled but didn't actively complain when the kid spread the blanket on the floor just inside the door. It seemed to be the cleanest place, anyway. He didn't even complain when Chuck sat down and eyed him with curdled amusement. He just sighed and sat down right next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and wrapped the blanket up around his shoulder while Chuck did the same.

"Better."

And it was. Warmer, anyway. So he, again, didn't complain.

It took a while, but eventually, they quit sitting so stiffly and leaned together even as they slumped against the wall. He didn't know about Chuck, but Raleigh desperately wished he slept like a normal person, because sleeping through the next several hours sounded like the best possible solution.

"I thought about it, y'know?"

He inhaled sharply, abruptly realizing he'd almost dropped off after all. Chuck was warm against his side, and the day had definitely been exhausting. Unfortunately, the kid sounded like he was continuing a conversation Raleigh wasn't sure they'd had.

"Hm?"

"Trying for you."

He blinked in the uncertain light. He had no idea how to respond to such a statement.

"Probably from the first time I saw you in the jaeger bay, if I'm honest. I knew who you were, and it pissed me off, but... damn, Ray. You really are built like a Greek god or some such."

He absolutely did not want to turn his head and stare incredulously at the big jerk. That was the last thing in the world he should do right now.

"Even got hard in my drivesuit when Gipsy dropped into the harbor to save our asses."

_Don't look at him. Do not look at him._

Warm breath fanned his cheek and ear. "After Pitfall, I dreamed that I peeled you out of your drivesuit and fucked you against the wall in the showers."

No power in the universe could have stopped his head from whipping around at that, and he was suddenly less than a breath away from the giant ginger prick who had been a thorn in his side from his first day back in the PPDC. Chuck's eyes were huge and dark in the flickering, weak light from overhead, his freckles barely visible, his lips slightly parted.

His voice a gut-punched whisper, he tried to reason it all away. "We both went straight to medical after Pitfall."

Chuck's voice was low and oddly husky. "I've got a good imagination."

He swallowed hard and wondered where all the air had gone. Had they used up all the oxygen? Did the air processors work this far down?

Chuck's big, warm hand appeared from under the blanket and touched his cheek, then lowered to his neck so his thumb could trace his jawline. Raleigh knew what was coming, but he couldn't... didn't resist it.

Sure enough, the kid sighed and kissed him, surprisingly gently for such a straight-forward, no-bullshit guy. Just lips and breath, a low hum, a sigh. It could have come from either of them.

"Yeah?"

He blinked his eyes open, unsure when he'd closed them. Flickering flourescent lighting shouldn't be flattering, but somehow, the kid looked... gorgeous. Cheeks flushed, eyes hazy, the slightest hint of a grin on his lips.

"Yeah."

This kiss was more thorough, if no less gentle. Chuck hummed again, then flicked his tongue over Raleigh's lower lip. He opened up immediately, welcoming the deepening of the kiss, pressing closer to that big, warm body. He hadn't wanted this, but... damn, it had been a long time. And Chuck's mouth tasted like ambrosia. And the strong hand on his neck felt like it belonged there, pulling him closer and closer until he gave up restraint and threw his leg over both of Chuck's, shifting until he straddled those narrow hips.

The blanket fell away, but they didn't need it anymore. In fact, he didn't even feel the chill when Chuck tugged at his hoodie and Raleigh obligingly shrugged it off. And the t-shirt beneath. All he felt was the heat of those big hands tracing up his bare back, the warmth of the body between his thighs.

Chuck shrugged his own shirt off, groaning and rolling his hips up against Raleigh's groin. Thank God, but the kid was hard, too, and getting harder by the second. Getting out of their pants was a bit tricky because neither of them wanted to get more than a few inches apart, but they managed, and settling against each other naked was like an awakening.

It had been so long. And Chuck's skin was satin over the shifting marble of his musculature. And the feel of his hard-on against Raleigh's....

"Fuck, mate, you're a goddamn wet dream come to life."

The kid bit his lower lip -- flushed and swollen and wet from their kisses -- and looked him over as he ran his hands down his chest to his abs. He didn't linger on the drivesuit scars, but he didn't skip them, either. Apparently, they were just part of the package.

Raleigh's breath caught.

Those big hands went lower still, one to his thigh and one to wrap around his cock. He gasped, his hips jerking into the touch. He hadn't been touched like this -- by anyone but himself, anyway -- since....

But he didn't want to think about that right now. Nothing that would ruin the mood and stop this.

"Jesus, Raleigh, you're fucking perfect." The kid leaned up for a kiss, stopping just short. "I wanna turn you inside out."

Whimpering, he kissed the bane of his existence, hips bucking again as Chuck gave him a tight, lingering stroke. He felt that grip from head to toe, every nerve ending buzzing to life until he was lightheaded with the heady sensation. Desperate for something to hold onto, he buried his hands in Chuck's hair, sucking at his tongue and all but writhing in his lap.

Chuck groaned, then flexed and rolled them until Raleigh lay on the blanket, his legs still gripping the kid's slim hips. God, the weight of that broad, strong body....

"Raleigh...."

It was barely a whisper, so filled with need that Raleigh shivered with it. Another stroke, and he arched against that perfect weight, silently begging for more. The torturing hand went further back, and Chuck abruptly cursed as he stroked his fingers lower still.

"Fuck, where the fuck did I...?"

Just like that, he was gone, and Raleigh was suddenly cold again. And confused as hell. Before he could get worried, though, he heard mutters and rummaging sounds. Something fell off a shelf and crashed to the floor, and Chuck cursed.

He leaned up on his elbows, squinting in the shitty lighting. "Chuck, what--"

"Got it!"

Warmth blanketed him again, and he lay back down without protest.

"Sorry, love. The condoms are out of date, but the lube should be fine, yeah?"

The first aid kit. And apparently something Mako _hadn't_ planned for, or she would have provided new supplies. He supposed he was grateful she hadn't been thinking--

"Raleigh? You all right going bareback, mate? We can... work around it if you're not."

Groaning, he arched against that perfect weight holding him down. "I'm clean. You're clean."

"I am, yeah."

"So fuck it." He snorted. "Wait, no, fuck _me."_

To his surprise, Chuck actually laughed, kissing him while he did so. It was maybe the best kiss of his life, and he leaned up into it with a smile on his own lips.

And when slick fingers stroked down behind his balls and circled his entrance, he only arched into the touch, wanting more of it. Chuck obliged, slipping one finger inside and groaning. So tight. It had been so long.

"Fuck, love, you feel so... _fuck."_

Even one finger was a stretch, so he didn't protest when Chuck took his sweet, precious time easing the way. Neither of them wanted it to hurt. They were desperate, but not that desperate.

It helped when Chuck shifted to stroke him while stretching him out, and Raleigh threaded his fingers into that ginger mess again, needing to hold onto something solid as his body came to life. Two fingers, and the big jerk found his prostate.

"Chuck! Jesus, right there!"

"I got you, love."

He cried out as the big jerk stroked that little bundle of nerves again and again, and he almost didn't even feel it when another finger slipped in. All but writhing under the gentle, careful assault, he ran his hands down that broad back, getting a good, hard grip just above the swell of Chuck's ass and trying desperately to pull them together.

"Chuck, please...."

"Yeah?"

"Fuck, _please...."_

Shifting, the kid groaned as he slicked his own cock, then slid a hand around to the back of Raleigh's thigh, lifting it to angle him better. He lifted his hips eagerly, needing Chuck inside him right now, needing to be filled up and turned inside out, just like Chuck had promised. God, he wanted it.

The head was a stretch, but Chuck had been patient and thorough, and the stretch was perfect and not painful at all. Moaning, he wrapped his legs up around that narrow waist and arched up for more. Apparently sure that he wasn't hurting him, Chuck groaned deep in his chest and pressed all the way in, the thrust slow but so goddamn deep.

"Jesus, Chuck, you're... fuck, just like that...."

Kissing him hard and deep, the kid pulled back and really thrust this time, and Raleigh shouted in surprised pain as his bruised buttcheek ground into the floor.

"Ow, fuck, wait--"

"Raleigh? Fuck, I'm sorry, what'd I--?"

Twisting to get the goddamn bruise off the floor, he thunked the back of his head on the metal in frustration. "Goddammit, I can't believe this shit."

"Oi, should I stop?"

"No!" God, that was the last thing he wanted. "No, I just... the goddamn bruise on my ass...."

"Oh. _Oh."_ The kid looked sheepish for all of two seconds before he smirked again. "No problem, yeah?"

He pulled out, and Raleigh whined a protest, then squawked as the big jerk sat up, leaned back against the door, and bodily picked him up off the floor to straddle his waist. He knew Chuck was strong, but... damn. He wasn't used to being manhandled.

He... kinda liked it, actually. Especially when Chuck reached down to position himself and arched up into him. Raleigh's breath sighed out as he sank himself down onto that glorious, thick cock. Chuck's hands roamed his back and ass -- carefully and thoughtfully avoiding the bruised area -- and thighs, then settled on his hips to urge him to lift up.

Leaning down for a kiss, he did as silently requested, drawing groans from both of them when he sank back down and rocked his hips to take Chuck deeper still. Before long, they were both panting, Raleigh riding his former enemy like they'd both die if he stopped, Chuck thrusting up into him like he could go all night without ever getting tired.

God, he felt fully awake for the first time in years, fully in the present. There was nothing in the world but Chuck's cock stretching him and pounding over his prostate, Chuck's solid body arching up against his, Chuck's hard hands on his thighs and ass, Chuck's mouth alternately tasting his and whispering praises against his lips. The growing burn in his thighs as he rode it out, the pleasure of each deep, hard thrust jolting up his spine, the spiralling heat in his stomach as he reached for the orgasm he felt building inside him.

"Chuck...." Gasping, he buried his face against the warm, damp skin of Chuck's throat. "Chuck, I... fuck, I'm... please... _please...."_

"Yeah, love... right there with you... come on, then...."

Chuck reached between them, and a single stroke was all it took. Raleigh cried out as he came between them, trying to keep himself moving so Chuck would come, too. But his coordination left him as he whited out, and it was all he could do to hold on as Chuck thrust up into him harder than before until he, too, cried out.

Strong arms went around Raleigh's back, crushing him against Chuck's chest, and he slumped gratefully into that merciless grasp, needing the closeness after such a shattering orgasm. Sure, he'd jerked off over the years, but this... was different. This was his former enemy holding him like he was the most important thing in the world, his cock still a thick, heated weight inside him, and that made all the difference.

He didn't want the moment to be over just yet. Hell, he still could barely feel his fingers and toes.

Just a little longer.

They came down slowly, and Chuck went from clasping him in a deathgrip to stroking those big hands up and down Raleigh's back. Raleigh hummed, smiling against the kid's neck, content for the first time in recent memory.

"Raleigh?"

"Hm?"

"Please tell me we can do that again."

Sighing, he snuggled closer, though the movement unfortunately caused Chuck to slip out of him, which wasn't the most pleasant sensation. "I'd definitely rather fuck you than fight you."

"Hm." That was definitely an amused hum. "So, from now on, every time we get pissed at each other, we'll fuck instead?"

Feeling warm all over again, he grinned, still hiding against Chuck's throat. "I have a feeling Mako's gonna think her plan backfired spectacularly."

"Serves her right for locking us up, yeah?"

"I dunno." He squirmed a bit, reminding Chuck of the mess between them. "Seems like it worked out all right."

One big hand settled possessively on his ass -- not the bruised side -- and squeezed. "Not gonna argue with that, mate."

But there was definitely a mess to be cleaned up, so they plundered the handy med kit again for wet wipes before cuddling up on the blanket and wrapping it around them like a burrito.

And if Chuck had him again before morning, well... Mako would never know.

\--

"You two are the most stubborn assholes I have ever met."

Raleigh raised his eyebrows. Mako didn't usually resort to bad language. Then again, she hadn't been terribly pleased when they argued over having to sit together at lunch after she let them out of the dungeon she'd locked them in like a couple of animals. Or when they nearly came to real blows during a spar just before supper that night. Or when she'd caught them bitching at each other outside Raleigh's room and hollered at them to take it somewhere else because people were trying to sleep.

Or when they'd shoved at each other over the last bagel until Tendo showed up out of nowhere and snatched it out from under their noses.

By this point, Raleigh wasn't sure how he was capable of walking. And he did not care one iota.

"You're just mad because your evil plan didn't work." He smirked. "Face it, Mako. Some people just aren't meant to get along."

"Oi! Is that my goddamn shirt?"

They both looked down the hall, where Chuck stood with his hands on his hips, apparently two steps shy of spitting mad.

"Who the fuck said you could steal my goddamn clothes!"

Raleigh raised one eyebrow, barely concealing a smirk. At this rate, he'd never walk again.

What a way to go.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought this was our get-along shirt."

Mako smacked his arm. "Raleigh--"

"My. Fucking. Shirt."

"You want it, asshole? Come and get it."

"Raleigh, no!"

Ignoring her, he braced himself as Chuck stormed up the hallway, his eyes blazing.

"Chuck, Raleigh, this is ridiculous!"

"My shirt!"

"It fits me better."

"Oi!"

Chuck hit him like a linebacker, socking his shoulder against Raleigh's midsection and actually picking him up off the ground to throw him over his shoulder.

"Put me down, you asshole!"

"I'm getting my goddamn shirt back, ya wanker. I will fucking fight you for it."

They left poor Mako standing in the hallway, unsure if she should follow or call security or just let them beat each other up at this point. Apparently, she decided to wash her hands of them, because once they rounded the curve, Chuck glanced back to make sure she wasn't following and relaxed.

"All clear?"

In response, the big jerk let him down, then shoved him against the wall and kissed him hard. He hummed into the kiss, though they probably shouldn't be out in the open like this. He sort of liked that no one knew, and he thought Chuck did, too. Oh, they'd tell everyone eventually, but for now?

This was theirs. Just between them.

After long, breathless moments, Chuck pulled away just enough to pant against his cheek. "My bunk or yours?"

"Whichever's closest."

A huff of a laugh. "That's what I like about you, Raleigh. Practical as fuck."

"The faster we get wherever we're going, the faster you can start fucking me into next week."

Chuck shuddered against him, then abruptly jerked away and snatched his hand. "My bunk, then."

It wasn't perfect. They hadn't talked about what they were doing, if they were anything more than fuckbuddies, if they'd switch it up somewhere down the road, if any of this meant anything to either of them.

For now, they didn't need to. Maybe they never would.

For now, this was enough.

And when Chuck cranked the lock behind them, kissing him like he wanted to climb inside him and stay there forever, Raleigh couldn't help but think that "enough" was more than he'd ever thought to ask for. And Chuck?

Well, behind closed doors, Chuck always, always agreed.

**THE END**


End file.
